


Unusual circumstances call for unusual reactions

by Epibreren



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: ALL the tags, Alpha Derek Hale, But whatever, F/M, M/M, OOC, This is crack okay, Werewolf Stiles Stilinski, alpha mate stiles, bed sharing, both John and Stiles are equal opportunity kind of guys, but i spent so much time on it lmao, but they aren't actual mates, demisexual Stiles, i just wanted it out of my drafts, i know it's badly written, it's just the alpha's second, kind of, lydia is violent, lydia wants to see peter burn, maybe? - Freeform, siblings could be alpha mates, stiles and derek cuddle at the end, stiles is really calm about everything anyway, the sheriff's name is John
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-14
Updated: 2017-07-14
Packaged: 2018-12-02 02:46:45
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,448
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11500164
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Epibreren/pseuds/Epibreren
Summary: And by unusual circumstances Stiles means his dad and Peter Hale necking on his childhood couch like two horny teenagers. Gross.But when he goes to Derek so the alpha can go and get his uncle, or preferably kill him again, Derek lets some information slide about some alpha pack in town. Apparently they view themselves as some sort of supernatural leaders, protecting everyone's secrets. And Beacon Hills? Not very good at that lately.So now, if Stiles doesn't want his father targeted because of the sheriff's connection to him and Peter, he has to help Derek straighten his act up.





	Unusual circumstances call for unusual reactions

**Author's Note:**

> So... I know this is bad. The summary makes it sound good but I don't think it actually is. 
> 
> Buuut it's been sitting in my actual drafts for over a year now and every time I opened it to see what I could add to it there was absolutely nothing I could think of. So now I'll just post it in semi-completed form. 
> 
> So, one of my personal headcannons that I'm quite sure should have happened is that Peter made another identity for himself, which is him being not at all subtle and going by Peter Gail, Godfather of Derek Hale. Dude had a contingency plan to come back from the dead I refuse to believe he would have just lurked around being creepy and only slightly useful.
> 
> Oh, also, something I am angry at the show over--werewolves not being able to manipulate mountain ash. I'd be cool if born werewolves couldn't but I think if someone who can manipulate mountain ash is bitten then they should still be able to manipulate it, that just makes the pack stronger and more diverse. So Stiles can still manipulate mountain ash, huzzah!

When Stiles had gotten home the cruiser had been in the driveway, so when he walks in the door he makes sure to take the time to pull off his shoes and drop them next to the door like his father likes. Between Stiles keeping the supernatural a secret and John losing his job because of it--though he’d gotten it back, thank God--their relationship had been mostly strained these past couple of months and he’d taken to doing even small things to try and please his father.

He moves just the few feet to see into the living room to greet his father but the words die in his throat. Stiles can actually feel his brain screech to a halt as he stares at the scene before him, mouth gaping wide in disbelief for about thirty seconds before he slams his jaw shut so fast he bites his tongue.

He immediately turns around and tries to make a run for it, because maybe he can pretend that he never came home in the first place, but-

“Stiles!”

Shit, damn, fuck. That's his dad's sad tone. He can't just leave.

“Hey-ho, Daddio!” Stiles quickly backtracks his last few steps, swinging back around on the ball of his foot.

And there, on his couch, in the home he had been living in for seventeen years now, sits _Peter Hale_ with his father. Looking at the smug look on Peter’s face makes Stiles want to sing into the ground and ignore anything for the rest of forever but the look on his dad’s face makes something in him ache. Because seconds before? His father had been kissing Peter. How the holy hell had Stiles missed that development?

“Son, do you have a problem if...” John trails off awkwardly. He looks between Peter and Stiles guiltily,“I know this is sudden, but I've never had a problem with a man and...”

Oh God. His dad is worried he hates him because he walked in on him macking on a dude.

He could really care less about the sex or even that the dude happens to be a werewolf.

_But it's Peter Hale._

“Dad, no!” Stiles makes himself move forward a few steps, as if proximity can make it seem like he isn't freaking out when it's the worst idea. “It's just that I was super surprised but then I thought I should leave because I know for a fact it has been literal years since you got laid—not to say that you're not layable, I guess, but you never seemed interested and I just want you to know that I have absolutely no problem with you! It's just...”

“Weird?” John fills in with a relieved look. “Sorry, kiddo. I was going to introduce you two at dinner tonight. Stiles, this is Peter Gail. Peter, this is my son.”

 _Gail_ , Stiles mouths to himself at the same time Peter says, “Oh, we've already met.”

“You have?” John looks between the two once more.

“Uh...”

“Oh, yes, Stiles has been something of a thorn in my godson's side for a little bit now.” Peter's smile is almost blinding in how evil it is, “You know Derek Hale? They've had something of a prank war going on since he and his little friend... Scott, I think? Got him arrested the first time. I think the last incident between them was at that gay bar in town.”

Stiles gapes. Not only has Peter almost flawlessly explained away how he might be seen around town with Derek but also the night at Jungle to explain Stiles' presence more effectively so he wasn't just at yet another crime scene. He wonders what his dad would think if he just sat down right there and started to cry; life has gotten entirely too confusing when all he had wanted was the macabre thrill of seeing a dead body.

John raises an incredulous eyebrow and looks between Peter and Stiles carefully. It’s obvious he doesn’t completely believe the story but it also offers an explanation that Stiles would be too embarrassed to talk about himself, especially since after getting Derek falsely imprisoned his father had made it clear that he was not to interact with the Hale anymore.

“That’s good, then,” John says finally, though his eyes are narrowing into an all too familiar suspicious squint. “Since it sounds like I don’t have to worry about you two getting along, how about I go ahead and start dinner?” He stands up without actually giving either of them a chance to respond, “You two can finish up the movie since you’re both fans of Harry Potter.”

Stiles barely blinks before his dad is brushing past him into the kitchen. He almost feels betrayed, because he’s been abandoned to a literal wolf here, but it helped a little that Peter had dropped the smug look and actually looked almost as uncomfortable as Stiles himself felt. He’d not even looked that out of sorts when Derek had ripped his throat out and it made Stiles feel a little better that they were both thrown off balance here.

“Gail?” Stiles hisses as soon as he thinks his father is far enough away.

Peter shrugs, “I could hardly come back to life and go around identifying as a previously missing comatose burn patient that everyone assumed dead. Gail is close and I’m likely to respond to it if someone calls me that.”

Damn, Stiles had to give him that one. He made sure to level his worse glower on the reanimated man anyway.

☾♚☽

After an incredibly awkward half an hour finishing the Prisoner of Azkaban while sitting next to Peter that included listening to his dad and Peter actually _flirt_ , Stiles decided it would be best for everyone if he fled his house as quickly as possible. And by everyone he mostly meant himself because he could not sit there another minute and watch Peter’s smug look disappear when his father entered the room to instead turn into something genuine and--dare he say it--heartfelt. So the next time his dad popped his head out of the kitchen Stiles stood up and mumbled an excuse of being invited to dinner and a gaming night at Scott’s house, offering to give them privacy.

John looked inordinately pleased by the idea and Stiles knew it wasn’t because he was getting alone time with Peter. In a lot of ways the Stilinski men were just alike; if they accepted someone into their life then that person was theirs, be it friend or something more. His dad had noticed that he and Scott had been spending less time together which meant he was assuming Scott was the one that was drawing away. Stiles hated the pitying looks and had taken a job at the local library just to actually get out of the house some.

Half of the summer had gone by without his best friend by his side. Scott had always been the type to focus on one person almost fanatically—there'd been a very strange incident with a girl in third grade who had since moved away that had first taught them this—and Isaac just happened to be his current favorite. It had always been one of the few things that strained their friendship; while Scott could accept people as friends easily it was rare that he would focus on more than one at a time in any real way, where as Stiles had a hard time accepting people into his little circle because when he cared for someone he gave them his heart and soul and would go above and beyond for them.

He knew when Scott fell in love with Allison that he was going to get practically tossed aside and if it hadn't been for all the werewolf shenanigans it probably would have been even worse. Now Scott had Isaac to focus on and Stiles understood that, too. They were both werewolves and Isaac had practically moved into the McCall house. If he had actually been able to get along with Isaac he might have been invited over more often. And they had honestly tried to get along, mainly for Scott, but Isaac was alternating between too sensitive and hard as steel regarding everything and Stiles’ tendency to be a dick when he was feeling awkward and didn’t know what to do meant he either got an upset Isaac that had beyond mastered the kicked puppy look or an Isaac who could rip him apart verbally and wouldn’t hesitate to do so. Scott was a fan of exactly neither of those things, but since the last one tended to lead to Stiles and Isaac flinging hurtful barbs at each other he disliked it the most.

Stiles would love nothing more than to actually go to the McCall house and tell his best friend and Scott’s werewolf shadow everything, some small part of him thinks it would be better to go to Derek first. That small part wins out on the drive towards Scott’s house, partly because Scott won’t pick up his damn phone but mostly because if anyone should know what Peter was doing and could control him it would be the guy who had slit his throat and was currently his alpha.

So he drives past the McCall household, purposefully pretending not to notice Scott’s bike in the driveway, and stopped at McDonalds to get enough food to eat his feelings and some extra for Derek just in case. Then he drives to the train depot and parks haphazardly in front of the abandoned building before shoving his way inside with his armful of greasy food. Derek isn't actually there, which is somewhat disappointing, but Stiles enters one of the train cars and plops himself down on one of the seats and starts to eat anyway.

After his fifth burger he is feeling amazingly horrible about himself and is honestly considering writing some terrible poetry to just try and vent some of his pent up emotions. He already feels like he kind of wants to throw up, so he carefully tosses Derek’s bag of grease so he won’t eat those burgers and fries as well. He’d had every intention of it landing on the floor a few feet away but a hand comes out of fucking nowhere and grabs up the bag, Derek himself stepping in to the train car soon after with his normal dour expression.

Stiles waits for Derek to say something but he just opens the McDonalds bag and peers inside it before pulling out a burger and plopping down into a seat angrily—Stiles hadn’t even known someone could sit down angrily Jesus fuck—before unwrapping and biting into it without any kind of communicative sound at all.

“I walked in on your uncle with his tongue so far down my dad's throat that I'm honestly wondering if he came back as some type of were-anteater,” Stiles blurts before he can think better of it.

Derek freezes with the burger halfway to his mouth again, eyes darting up to Stiles as if the teen might actually lie about something so serious. If it weren't for the situation he might have been happy to put something besides anger on the older man's face, but as it was he just nodded to show that he, too, had been entirely shocked by it.

“Do you have any idea why?”

“I haven’t seen much of Peter this summer. We had an argument and he basically left the pack. I was angry that he had killed Laura, he said I was a terrible alpha, we got into it.” Derek admits this quietly, lowering the burger a bit. Stiles could vaguely remember Isaac mentioning something about Derek being hurt towards the beginning of summer. “He left saying he was going to be doing some research for me and that if I wanted to ‘shape up’ he would come back properly. It’s not all that surprising that he’s essentially migrated towards a human alpha, keeps him from going omega fully.”

Stiles bit down on his bottom lip, “Wait, okay, one, do I have to feed you to always get you to be this helpful? Two, what was he going to research for you? Is something happening? And three, is he just using my dad for his position?”

“Food makes you marginally easier to stomach, Alpha pack, and I can't see him managing something nefarious with a _sheriff_.”

“Alpha pack?” Stiles repeats, mind already going to horrible places. As bad as it was to walk in on Peter fucking Hale kissing his dad, it was almost worse to know that there was apparently an entire pack of alphas out somewhere. “Why are they here?” Stiles demands, “What do they want?”

“That's not your-”

“If that even ends in something like my problem or my business I will honestly consider breaking into the Argent house and searching for wolfsbane bullets,” Stiles cuts him off, narrowing his eyes at the werewolf. “Because fuck you, Derek Hale, if you think that a possible threat to you or to Beacon Hills isn't my business. How could you not bother to mention this to me or Scott?”

“Scott has made it clear that he isn't pack,” Derek growls, taking such a vicious bite of his burger that Stiles is reminded of the threat to his neck and he has to avoid reaching up and rubbing at it instinctively. “They've shown up because a rogue Alpha and all the deaths with the Kanima attracted their attention. They like to pretend that they're some sort of law enforcement. It's actually better if he doesn't answer to me at this time.”

He considers that for a moment, but decides pretty quickly that Derek is a dumbass. Isaac is just flaky enough that his connection to Derek is probably weak at best and Stiles really doesn't even want to think about him having to actually accept and deal with Peter being in his pack. His 'pack' is weak at best and the one member it may truly have can't be trusted, because Stiles definitely caught that ‘basically’ Derek had used. That meant Peter was still pack somehow which wasn’t actually helpful if Derek wasn’t even going to use him.

“If they go after you then you won't be able to defend yourself,” Stiles points out, standing up and starting to pace. “And it certainly doesn't help that your uncle is probably back at my house eating a nice dinner with my dad. Now I have to worry about him becoming some sort of-”

_Message._

He forces his mouth closed with an audible clack and stills in his pacing for a moment, trying to push down the bitter feeling welling up. Derek moves in his seat and Stiles focuses on him for a split second, wondering what the werewolf is picking up off of him. Increased heart rate, for sure. Anger, probably, with just a bit of healthy fear starting to creep up. So he decides to switch tactics, if only for his own sanity, because there is a long list of ways his father could potentially die and he never wants to be one of those.

“Look,” he starts, “I never fucking knew that he was even working with Gerard, alright? So if you don’t want to talk to him about potential threats than at least talk to me.”

“You're his pack,” Derek pulls out another burger, biting into it just as viciously as the last one. “I can't trust McCall.”

“I'm not...” Stiles swallows, thinking about how alone he's felt since even before the summer began. About how Scott hadn't cared about the bruises or anything else. “Scott is... He's not my pack anymore, I don't think. The pool is just one example that I can't rely on him…” Stiles sits back down and begins to pick at a hole in his jeans, “Did you know that Gerard took me? I was brought down into the basement with Erica and Boyd, but all he did was punch me. Said I was a message for Scott, a warning. Scott never even fucking cared—never bothered to ask about the bruises or where I'd been.”

Derek gives him an appraising look but doesn't say anything, starting in on the now cold fries. Stiles lets him continue eating without another word, shuffling around until he could lean his back against cool metal. He pulls out his phone. Nothing from Scott about the call, nothing from his dad about Peter. So he sits there and thinks over a few of his immediate options and tries to decide which would be best.

“Would you give me the bite?”

Derek apparently finds this so surprising that he inhales sharply enough to choke on a fry. Stiles feels his lips twitch for just a moment but he quickly wipes it off his face when Derek finishes coughing and looks back up at him.

“What?” Derek hisses and Stiles can't tell if it's an angry hiss or a disbelieving hiss.

“You need betas and I need someone I can actually rely on,” Stiles starts to jiggle his leg, gesturing between them. “I know what I'd be getting into and, unlike the others you chose to nibble on, I wouldn't be a huge fucking mistake.”

Derek raises an eyebrow, “No?”

“Erica and Isaac both were disasters waiting to happen because you took people who believed that they were inherently weak and worthless and made them a predator.” Stiles tilts his head back and smirks, “And while Boyd was a relatively smart choice you couldn't be what he needed between your power high and you not knowing how to be an actual human being that isn’t full of guilt and manly angst. Erica gave him the attention and affection he'd been looking for, so he was more loyal to her than you.”

“That doesn't convince me that you wouldn't be a mistake.”

“I don't need you to be anything but you, sourwolf.” Stiles grins now, “An alpha who will protect his territory—his family's territory—and his pack. Failure at leadership aside, you always were good at the whole grr teeth and claws part. There's a lot of potential evils and I just think we'd be better off together. The enemy you know is better than the enemy you don't, and if we're pack we're not enemies, right? So it's even better.”

It takes almost a minute of silence but Derek finally stands and moves the few feet across the train to Stiles so that he can loom above him and give him a smile full of sharp and pointy teeth. Stiles just gives him his best bitch face and offers him his wrist, which the werewolf proceeds to stare at blankly before he pointedly looks down at his side.

Stiles rolls his eyes and cuts Derek off before he can finish opening his mouth, “I know it’s easier to hide on the hip, but your uncle offered me the bite after he forced me to search for you. I said no, obviously, but he was being all teethy around my wrist and I still have the occasional nightmare about the bad touch vibe that went down during it. I'm hoping that if you bite me here it'll help. Like therapy to replace an emotional trauma with physical pain.”

Derek lets out something that sounds surprisingly close to an amused huff and takes the proffered wrist without any further complaint. Stiles tugs at the sleeve of his hoodie until the delicate skin is revealed and then takes a deep breath as Derek face morphs, alpha eyes appearing alongside elongated teeth and mutton chops. He watches as those sharp teeth slide into his flesh with absolutely no effort, tensing at the hot burn of pain that hits him and he can’t help the small whine that escaped him or the way his vision starts to blur.

Somewhere in the depths of his mind he remembers that there’s a chance the bite won’t take and he almost panics, because between that and the chance of him turning into some freaky monster like Jackson he might be screwed, but then he remembers the mountain ash and how all he’d had to do was believe in order to create something out of nothing. He closes his eyes, lets out that deep breath slowly, and believes. He imagines that he can feel the affects from the bite travel through his veins, infecting his cells inch by inch until the infected blood reaches his heart and he only opens them when he feels something warm settle there.

He looks back up into the red eyes above him and for a long moment he and Derek just stare at each other. Derek seems to be searching him for something, perhaps regret or even signs of bite rejection. After a minute Derek steps back and Stiles reaches into his empty McDonald's bag for some napkins, trying to clean the blood off his wrist without visibly wincing.

☾♚☽

Perhaps the most surprising turn of the day was when Scott called him half an hour after he left the train depot and invited him to spend the night, Stiles muses. Scott had picked up on the fact that Stiles was wounded as soon as he’d walked into the McCall household but despite a pointed raised eyebrow at his wrist he hadn’t actually bothered to ask any questions. Isaac was blessedly absent for the occasion and they had spent most of the night playing games like they used to, with Stiles schooling Scott’s ass in everything but Mario Kart.

When he wakes up three hours after he and Scott had gone to bed and goes to the bathroom the bite is already healed. It was just pushing six and he’d only gotten a bit of sleep but there was no chance of Stiles being able to lay back down now that he knew he was a werewolf. Or at least that he was transitioning into a werewolf.

So Stiles leaves the McCall house, focusing on that still warm feeling in his heart as he climbs into his jeep. There’s this new weird feeling that makes him consider each turn in the road carefully and it takes him a few minutes of driving to realize that he’s being pulled towards something. Once he recognizes the pull for what it is he can actually close his eyes and see a faint stringlike line leading off into the same direction of the pull.

The pull leads him to his own house, which he really should have expected. Failure of a leader or not, Derek had always been adamant over the proper training of betas. It would be better if Stiles learned not to ought himself as a werewolf as quickly as possible, especially with the alpha pack to consider.

Stiles unlocks his front door and kicks it open, “Oy, why didn't you tell me about the string thing, asshole?”

He walks in the living room to see Peter lounging comfortably in an old set of his dad's clothing and Derek behind him, looking confused. Stiles points an accusing finger at Peter before he can help himself, because he really doesn't need to think about his dad having sex or Peter having sex or them having sex together or why Peter is still here in the morning in his dad's clothes.

“You!” Stiles hisses, “Get outta my dad’s clothes and get outta my house!”

Peter quirks an eyebrow, “Something wrong with your father having a healthy sex life?”

For a second Stiles is almost blinded by the rage that rises inside of him but he comes back to himself quickly as he grits his teeth. He kicks off his shoes and forces himself to take off his hoodie slowly before tossing it purposefully in Peter’s direction. He’s hoping it will land on Peter’s face since it’s sweaty and bloody and just grimy from being worn in the train depot at this point but it lands just short and falls in his lap instead. Peter’s nostrils flare and he sits upright with a flash of blue eyes.

“You've been bitten,” Peter sneers.

“Yeah, and it was nothing like your bad touch attempts, so I thank your nephew dearly for that.” Stiles replies, able to see Derek rolling his eyes just behind Peter’s head. “It didn’t hurt too bad and I didn’t reject the bite, so I’m actually helping to round out your little farce of a pack.”

“You bit him on the wrist?” Peter demands, turning to glare at Derek. “Do you have any idea what that means?”

Derek just quirks an eyebrow, purposefully adopting an expression that screamed ‘well, duh’. But Stiles knew that particular look well enough by now to know it actually meant that Derek had know idea and was just trying to hide his ignorance. And despite his vast amount of research on all things werewolf, Stiles has no idea what it means, either. Now that he thinks about it everyone he knew had been bitten on the side, even Scott and Lydia. He’d assumed that was because it was a less obvious place and easier to heal but now that he thinks more about it Peter had very specifically wanted to bite him on the wrist, which was why Stiles had convinced Derek to do the same in the first place.

“You made him the alpha mate,” Peter says, looking way more amused by the situation than he had any right to be.

For a second Stiles thinks he’s going to be sick because oh, dear God, wolves mate for _life_. He even puts a hand over his mouth as a preemptive measure but even as Derek just continues to stand there looking like a confused muppet he’s remembering his research and everything he read about alpha mates. They didn’t have to be literal mates, thank God, because more often than not it was a pair of siblings co-ruling the pack or even an alpha and someone they really trusted. An alpha mate wasn’t as strong as an alpha but fell just behind them in the hierarchy of the pack; they weren’t hardwired to listen to an alpha’s direct order and in most traditional roles one was the warrior and defender of the pack while the other was the caretaker.

“Wait, so?” Stiles lowers his hand and narrows his eyes at Peter, “You were going to make me yours!”

Peter snorts, “Because I was somewhat intelligent even while insane and knew it was a good move. It still is, but considering the pack is in absolute shambles and that my nephew doesn't even know how to be an alpha it just means that you're not going to be trained properly. It's like having a second clueless alpha running around.”

Stiles considers that for a moment and figures Peter might have a bit of a point. But he also really wants to prove the bastard wrong, so he closes his eyes and considers the string once more, the one he’s pretty sure is the bond between him and his alpha. It’s harder to focus on the feeling with Derek already right in the room with him since he no longer feels the active pull. He has to actively imagine it, picturing the string leading away from him, and once he pulls that image up in his mind he can see the end of it. It ends in something that glows a rich red color and he’s sure that it’s Derek. Connected to that rich red is another string, this one slightly frayed, that connects to something orange. That must be Peter.

“I can follow the bond that connects me to Derek,” Stiles admits after a moment, keeping his eyes closed. “And if I really focus I can see a smaller bond between the two of you.”

“And?” Peter drawls, sounding bored.

Stiles tilts his head to the side a bit, trying to get a clearer image as he focuses in on Derek’s alpha spark. “There’s other strings leading off of Derek, but I can’t see to where and I can’t tell to who. I can’t tell if it’s two or three but none of them look very strong.”

When he opens his eyes it’s to Peter’s smug face and he quickly figures out that he just got duped into proving himself like an overeager puppy. He considers punching that smug grin right off his face but Derek is looking surprisingly vulnerable behind him so he decides against it.

Stiles glares at him, “I think we need to have a talk about your intentions with my father. Derek, you're going to listen and scent and alpha or whatever the fuck you need to do to make sure he's not lying, got it?”

☾♚☽

After spending a horrible two hours grilling Peter on everything and anything, including the alpha pack, Stiles kicks both the werewolves out of his house and promises to meet Derek at the Hale house the next day for some training. He’s already fairly sure his anchor will be his dad and a lot of the werewolfy symptoms haven’t even really hit him yet so he’s not concerned about it for the day. Plus the full moon is still three weeks away and that’ll be when his transition to a werewolf is fully complete, so they have plenty of time.

He waits a few minutes until he thinks they’re actually gone before trudging his way upstairs and flopping down on his bed face first. He considers suffocating himself for one long, serious moment, because his life is getting so ridiculous it would probably be better if he went out on his own terms, but instead he flips onto his back and stares up at the ceiling and spends some time thinking.

According to Peter, he and Stiles’ dad had met around mid-June. At some point during the conversation Derek had gotten a far off look and said something about remembering that Peter had always had a thing for a deputy back before the fire, though he’d not realized it was Stiles’ dad. Some part of Stiles wonders if that’s why Peter is so surprisingly vulnerable and open about the whole thing, because this goes back to who he was before the fire, but a larger part of himself doesn’t care because this is his dad.

And while apparently there’s nothing untoward about Peter’s intentions with his dad, except for, y’know, the fact that he wants to be with him and have sex with him in the first place, Stiles still isn’t all that happy about it. Because if John had actually wanted to introduce them then that means whatever they have is leaning towards serious--the Stilinski men rarely operate in anything else when it comes to relationships--which means Peter could end up hurting his father more than just physically.

It kind of hurts to think about. How unsure had his father been of his and Stiles’ relationship that he didn’t want to tell his own son about something so potentially good in his own life?

So, in the end, what it comes down to is that Stiles has to trust Peter. He doubts that the werewolf has any immediate plans to reveal the supernatural to his father, mainly because if Peter did that he’d have to own up to being a Hale. And the beta knows that if he seriously pisses Stiles off or gives Stiles any reason to think he might try to hurt his dad that he’d not hesitate to tell his dad himself and include the little tidbit about murdering his own niece and all those other people connected to the fire for revenge.

It’s almost worse, though, because while Stiles could tell his dad all that stuff anyway so he ditches Peter like the piece of trash he is he can’t bring himself to because his dad seems happy. John actually made dinner. He hasn’t bother to make any sort of actual meal for them since after Stiles learned how to cook; before that it had only been ready-to-heat things since his mom had gone into the hospital.

So if his dad is actually falling for Peter and is happy? Stiles can’t ruin that. He’s ruined enough for his dad. John barely trusts him as it is and their relationship has only just started to grow back to what it used to be before all the lying and losing his dad his badge. So, really, what else is there for Stiles to do but encourage a relationship between his dad and a reanimated werewolf?

Except this just raises a whole new issue for him, because Peter still isn’t fully pack with Derek and as Derek’s whatever the hell it is he needs to try and make the pack more stable. In part because Derek will be stronger but also because if the alpha pack see themselves as some sort of police force than a stable pack will impress them more than several splinter groups and practically omega werewolves. Which means that not only does he have to allow the relationship, he has to try and actually buddy up with Peter too.

Stiles is starting to feel just a bit overwhelmed. Peter with his dad, Peter and Derek’s strained relationship, Isaac and Scott’s new friendship, his new relationship and what he means for Derek, the alpha pack in general—it's a lot to worry over and plan for. It’s been a long time since Stiles felt like crying just to cry, but he’s getting awfully close now.

Instead he pulls himself up and off his bed, pops an adderall without thinking about it, and picks up his phone. He scrolls through his contacts into he runs across Lydia’s and then presses the call button. The girl had wanted to be in the know with everything now that she knew just how in the dark she had been kept and she had Jackson wrapped around her little finger more than ever before. If he could get the both of them on his side then he could start working on stabilizing Derek's pack; with how smart Lydia was he figured it was a much needed move to balance out some of the stupidity.

“Lydia,” Stiles croons as soon as she answers. “Moon of my stars! Remember how you were so upset about not knowing everything? Yeah, well…”

☾♚☽

“Do you want to molotov him again?” Lydia asks while taking a dainty sip of her coffee.

Not for the first time, Stiles wishes that it wasn't Jackson she was in _True Love™_ with. He knew defeat when it was staring him in the face and honestly? Being Lydia Martin’s friend was definitely worth not ever getting to be her boyfriend. He already had a five year place to usurp Allison’s position as best friend because then he and Lydia could rule the world together with Jackson serving them drinks.

“Make a few just in case,” Stiles decides. “If it’s not Peter we use them on then it could be the alpha pack.”

Lydia’s smirk is downright evil and Stiles falls in love with her all over again. It’s tragic, really, because he would still do anything he could for this girl and now he can’t even say he’s in love with her to explain it away. He’ll probably always love Lydia but it’s changed, now, into something more and less than what it used to be.

Which probably explains why he was willing to drive her to the Starbucks two towns over because she had wanted a decent coffee and to talk face to face.

“So you took the bite, then?” Lydia continues as if they hadn't just been talking about burning people alive.

Stiles drums his fingers on the table, “Yeah. I'd been considering it for awhile, but then Derek turned into a Grade A dick and there was the leather devil babies. They're not entirely his fault bec-”

“Don't care.” Lydia has obviously figured out that cutting him off before he can go on a tangent helps to keep him focused, so go her. “Do you think you could still manipulate mountain ash?”

“That's...” Stiles has to take a moment to curse his own stupidity because he hadn’t even thought about that. “Want to go to Deaton's after this to see?”

“After you take me to see that new horror movie,” Lydia replies, “I know McCall works today because I saw Lahey trailing after him like a lost puppy when I took Prada in for her checkup.”

Stiles stares at her in surprise. It sounded an awful lot like she was actually being considerate of his feelings.

“The longer we keep McCall in the dark about you the more amusing it will be and the worse he'll feel. I can not believe you actually spent the night at his house and he was oblivious to the fact that you smelled of Derek.” Lydia rolls her eyes and Stiles has to concede that she has a point there, “Plus once you have the emotional blackmail over him you can then work on getting him to join the pack whether he wants Hale as his alpha or not. Jackson will join if I tell him too and then it’s just strengthening the already existing pack bond with Lahey.”

“It's too bad you're immune to the bite,” Stiles tells her honestly. “I'd much rather have you for an alpha.”

Lydia's answering grin is worth whatever headache will come from having her by his side.

☾♚☽

Stiles may or may not have actually screamed during several parts of the horror movie while Lydia sat beside him and snickered at the bad plot. She guessed the plot twist before it happened and Stiles may have gotten a bit teary that his favorite character died but the tissue Lydia had given him seemed like wordless agreement to never talk about it again, so he was okay with that.

It’s as they’re driving to Deaton’s that he realizes he can hear Lydia’s heartbeat and it settles something inside of him that he’s only just now starting to recognize. She’d commandeered his jacket in the movie theater and now, despite the fact that he can’t seem to actually pick up scents any better just yet, he knows that she smells of him and he likes it. He’d worry more about that being a potentially creepy thing if he had actually still loved her the way he used to.

Jackson is actually meeting them at Deaton’s and Stiles isn’t sure what to think about that. He hasn’t seen the other teen since he’d hit him with his jeep and while he feels bad for Jackson for the whole kanima debacle he also didn’t care enough to follow up and make sure he was actually doing alright afterwards. Then again, he’d had his own stuff to deal with, so he thinks he can be forgiven in this case.

So, really, he wasn’t thinking anything of it when he pulled into the parking lot of the veterinary clinic. Deaton’s sedan was in it’s normal spot and not too far from that Jackson was stood next to his Porsche, looking a little less than thrilled be there. As soon as Stiles parked Lydia was out of the jeep and smirking at Jackson’s disgruntled look.

Stiles tumbled out of his side, rounding the jeep towards Lydia when he froze. Jackson didn’t smell like him, or his dad, or Scott, or Derek—he didn't smell like pack. Something inside of him revolted at the idea, made a weird combination of possessiveness and disgust rise up in him, because he could recognize that Jackson was an omega and that was all wrong. The boy should be his.

The next thing Stiles knew he was almost on top of Jackson, having bypassed Lydia completely. He pushes him into his porsche and presses as close as he possibly can to him; chest to chest and hip to hip. Jackson lets loose a snarl and flashes blue eyes at him, a very clear warning to back off, but Stiles ignores it. He lets loose his own growl and presses even closer, leans his head forward so he can rub his nose from the bottom of Jackson’s jaw to just under his eye. Scent marking him, claiming him.

Jackson makes a displeased noise and Stiles growls again but this time with more intent; he can feel a weird tingling in his eyes and would bet money that they’ve shifted. This makes Jackson slump back unceremoniously, tilting his head to the side to bare his neck in a submissive gesture. Stiles takes the opportunity to nose there too, feels the connection flare up hot between them as this new thing inside of him howls and he has to fight the urge to do the same.

Jackson is his now, is Derek’s, and he can feel a thrum of interest coming from his alpha at this new addition to their pack.

“If I asked you two to kiss would you?”

It’s not that Lydia’s voice snaps him back to reality, to the fact that he’s scent marking a dude he’s had mixed feelings about for almost as long as he and Scott have been friends, it’s just that he’s already finished what he wanted to do and that he can take a step back from Jackson now and actually try to think past the instinct that had taken over. It does seem to snap Jackson out of his semi-submissive state, though, because Stiles gets shoved even further away despite already having created some distance between them.

He glances at Lydia, trying to gauge her reaction, but she seems almost honestly curious, gaze a bit too hungry—and that's not something he really needs to be thinking about.

So he closes his eyes and imagines the pack connections again, finding Jackson's blob to be a deep green. There's a string connecting him to Jackson and then one going off of Jackson, leading off to an electric blue. He figures that's Lydia and ignores it for the time being, instead focusing on Derek's string. The red at the end seems brighter than before, stronger, but he knows Jackson will have to willingly submit to Derek before their connection and Jackson's place in the pack is truly cemented.

Stiles clears his throat, “Well, Jackie, welcome to my pack!”

“Yeah, whatever, Stilinski.” Jackson scoffs, but somehow Stiles thinks he might actually be somewhat grateful.

Oh, lord, about the time he starts being able to read Jackson is when he knows he needs to call it a day and fast. So he does what he does best when too many emotions start to come in the equation and just shrugs, shoving his hands deep in his jean pockets as his shoulders hunch. Lydia audibly snorts and walks over to the clinic doors, trying and failing to open them as they’re locked. It’s not all that surprising since it is past closing, but he's long since made a copy of Scott's key for the clinic for any moments like these, and he steps around Lydia and opens the door with that. He holds it open for her but purposefully lets it loose just to get Jackson to glower at him and feel like at least something's right with the world.

He can hear someone messing around in one of the back rooms, so he moves between the desks to go towards them without a second thought. He knows Lydia is following right behind him because he can hear the clack of her heels, but it’s not until Jackson growls that he realizes the other male has stopped. Stiles turns to see Jackson pushing up against what looks like an invisible barrier and he knows almost instantly what that means.

“Mountain ash,” Lydia says thoughtfully, glancing between Stiles and Jackson.

“I didn't know it was there,” Stiles admits, though he figures that’s obvious since he had walked right over it.

He tilts his head to the side and kneels down to the floor. After some careful examination he finds a small line of ash there, barely two centimeters wide, and it’s hidden just under the bottom edge of the desk where it meets the floor. Or, in the case of where he walked over, it trails under a rug before completing the circle.

“Is there a reason you three have decided to break into my clinic?” Deaton’s voice causes Stiles to jump and bang his head on the desk hard enough that he actually sees stars.

Stiles stands up, idly rubbing his head with one hand as he takes stock of Jackson and Lydia. Jackson looks as unnerved as Stiles feels, because Deaton makes something inside of him crawl due to his otherness, but Lydia looks as unperturbed as usual. And although Stiles doesn’t feel outright threatened by Deaton he still makes sure to take a step back towards the other two when he turns around to face the older man. Deaton watches this all with his normal impersonal smile.

“Ah, I see you took the bite, Mr. Stilinski,” Deaton’s facial expression never changes, although there is an odd lilt to his tone. “I had no idea Derek was planning on expanding his pack anymore.”

Stiles shrugs, “Thought I’d get a free pass into the kool kidz club, so I asked for it. I’ve yet to receive my leather jacket, though, so Derek and I will be having words soon.”

“Now that we’re all caught up,” Lydia begins sweetly, stepping forward so she’s in front of Stiles and making it perfectly clear just who the boss of their little trio is right at that moment. “I had some questions, Mr. Deaton.”

“What would they be about, Miss Martin?”

“ _Everything._ ”

It's nice to know that even Deaton can look intimidated by Lydia's toothy grin.

☾♚☽

That night, Stiles woke up to someone climbing in his bed. It takes him a long, drowsy moment as he blinks hazily at his open window to understand why this isn’t normal at all and that he probably should be panicking quite a bit. But the only people he can think of who would climb in bed with him are generally people he likes and for a second he really thinks it’s Scott, especially when they bring a hand up and swipe it across the growing stubble on his head. He inhales but all he can pick up is wet earth and decaying leaves, as if whoever it is just came in from the preserve. It’s that thought that makes his brain finally click on and realize that it’s Derek.

“The neighbors might start to get the wrong idea, Mr. Hale.” Stiles mumbles, pressing back into the ready warmth behind him and humming when an arm drapes over his hip and rests on his stomach.

As amused as he is by the knowledge that Derek’s eyebrows are probably doing an angry jig, he’s kind of stuck on how right it feels to be sharing scent and laying so close with his alpha. The part of him that still remembers that just a day ago he had pretty mixed feelings about one Derek Hale is drowned out by the much larger part that is thrilled by what’s going on.

Derek doesn’t bother to actually respond, instead leaning forward and running his nose from the back of Stiles’ neck to the top of his head so he just sits there and allows the alpha to scent mark him. He takes a moment to be thankful that he’d taken the time to jerk off before he went to bed, because he doubts he’d be able to not get hard by all the touching otherwise.

Which… yikes, that’s a weird thought that he’ll definitely have to come back to later. He’s not blind, he knows Derek’s hot, but he also knows full well that he is strictly demisexual and that up until now he’s never considered Derek in anything more than an aesthetically pleasing way. He doesn’t even want to start thinking about all the issues they’d have to work through--his and Derek’s--before they could ever enter something remotely healthy with each other, so instead he forces the thought down and takes a few deep breaths to calm himself.

“So what brings you here, ‘O Alpha mine?” Stiles asks finally, “Jackson come by and bat his eyelashes before asking to join the pack?”

It’s a rhetorical question because Stiles already knows about it. It’s becoming a habit to check the strings whenever he closes his eyes for more than a second and to be honest it was oddly comforting, too. So he already knew that either Jackson or Derek had gone to the other and worked things out. Lydia’s connection was still there, too, only now she was also connected to the alpha.

“You’re almost fully turned now,” Derek replies, “It’ll be better if we have contact with each other. Finalizes the bond.”

For a moment, Stiles almost opens his big mouth to point out that their bond is as finalized as it’s going to get since he’s already the alpha mate. But then he realizes that Derek could just be lonely and wanting some company of his own, so he doesn’t call the alpha out on it this time. He’s pretty sure that Derek knows he knows, though, just by the way he can feel him tensing against his back at the silence, so he forces another yawn and nods.

“S’all good if I go back to sleep, then?” Stiles doesn’t bother to wait for an actual response, shoving back into Derek until he gets the alpha to move enough that he can use his shoulder as a pillow and then settling back down. “You have my full permission to use that creepy pain drain thing, my thighs are cramping something awful.”

Derek snorts at that but after a moment the hand on Stiles’ stomach slips down to rest over the side of his thigh and he groans happily as the pain ekes away. Stiles mumbles a small thanks and closes his eyes, already planning ahead to the next day and all he’ll have to do to bring Isaac back to Derek’s side and what kind of research he’ll need to do before he and Lydia can perform a tracking spell to find Erica and Boyd. Between the change and everything else that’s going on, it doesn’t take Stiles long at all to fall back to sleep.

**Author's Note:**

> My tumblr!


End file.
